


Love Somebody

by trillian_jdc



Series: The Power of Touch [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bathing, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Soft Smut Sunday, Touching, Trust, Valentine's Day, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:28:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29445579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trillian_jdc/pseuds/trillian_jdc
Summary: It's Mycroft's first Valentine's Day as part of a couple, and he wants to spoil Greg, who, as usual, is exhausted. A bath together seems just the thing to relax.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: The Power of Touch [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997254
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71
Collections: Be my Valentine - Johnlock Collection, Soft Smut Sunday





	Love Somebody

Valentine's Day wasn't something Mycroft had paid significant attention to in the past. He took it into account in figuring the productivity of the department, of course, as everyone's attention was partially distracted by planning romantic surprises or hinting for them or resenting the need for them. And Mummy always sent a card, which made him twitch at her assumption that it would be the only one he got. He didn't need her pity, particularly this year. 

His semi-annual spa day last month had had unforeseen benefits, as he'd encountered an old friend in a new context. Greg Lestrade's massage experience was exceptional, and the more personal touches they'd explored had been, well, the only word that came to mind, much as he disliked the colloquial, was mind-blowing. They hadn't gone terribly far since then, but apparently, they were incredibly compatible, as each found the other's touch alternately soothing, arousing, teasing, and fulfilling. 

Mycroft steepled his hands in front of his lips as he thought. They hadn't had much time together, all things considered, but they'd continued getting to know each other more personally over dinners and drinks meetings and moments together whenever they could. They fit remarkably well into each other's regular life, but Mycroft wanted to give Greg a grand gesture and all the romance he could manage. 

Based on his experience, that wasn't going to be an immense amount, but Mycroft refused to apologize for being the person he was. Greg seemed to accept him, anyway. Which was a wondrous thing. Greg had already had a life with all the usual ways of doing things, including the expected romantic cliches and habits, and now he was trying something different. Mycroft wanted to show him how much that, and he, was appreciated, and he suspected, and hoped, Greg would enjoy the surprise. 

But what should it be? Mycroft tapped his fingers, slowly, on his desk, as he ran through possibilities. He thought it had probably ought to be sentimental, which was not his area. That's why romantic cliches existed, but he couldn't cope with the idea of accidentally doing something one of Greg's former paramours had done. So it had to be something Greg wouldn't have done before. 

Well, that was easy. Greg was used to taking the lead in a relationship. Greg wasn't used to letting anyone take care of him. Greg had previously expressed an interest in Mycroft's hands, and what he could do with them. They had launched this new phase of their interaction through touch. It seemed a valid assumption that Greg might like being pampered and cosseted for an evening. Well, no better ideas came to mind, so this it would be. 

Mycroft launched into planning. Once committed to a course of action, this he could do.

* * *

The project began a day early, as Mycroft suspected Greg would appreciate some advance notice. He hand-wrote a simple invitation on cardstock, requesting his availability on the celebratory evening, and had it delivered to Greg's office, inconspicuously. He knew it had arrived when Greg texted back, "Are we doing this? What should I get you?" 

Mycroft rang him, and when he answered, told him, "The pleasure of your company will be sufficient. Please temper your expectations accordingly. Given your schedule, you needed advance notice, which I provided."

Greg was unsure. "Well, I knew you weren't the roses and choccies type. But this isn't a game, is it? Or a test? That I'm supposed to get you something anyway?" 

Although Greg wouldn't see it, Mycroft shook his head. The poor man had clearly seen too much TV advertising. "No, Greg. You can trust that I will not lie to you or attempt to trip you up on the occasion of our first couple celebration together. I am not particularly knowledgable of this endeavor, but that would be a rather poor foundation, would it not?" 

Greg chuckled. "When you put it that way... you're not doing anything excessive, are you?" 

Mycroft sighed. "You are by far the more experienced of us in dating, but is this kind of interrogation common?" 

"Mycroft, you are exceptional in so many ways that it's always fresh and surprising. And don't imply I'm a slag, ta." 

This conversation had reached its useful end, so Mycroft put to use several of the new techniques he'd been experimenting with to make Greg speechless and end this on a positive note. He lowered his voice before saying, "No inference intended. I find your experience intriguing and look forward to being the further beneficiary of it on the day. Until then, _mon cher. Au revoir_."

* * *

On the evening of Valentine's Day, Mycroft picked Greg up and had them taken to the house. He'd have preferred the less-excessive flat, but he needed the space the drafty old place had available. And one particular feature he hoped Greg would enjoy. 

He gestured Greg in, guiding him a bit more directly than usual as Greg kept stopping to look around. They'd both had long days, and the fatigue was getting to them. Greg seemed to be operating on autopilot by now, while Mycroft was extraordinarily focused on the next step of the plan. "We'll have time tomorrow for the tour, my dear. Come with me now." 

Mycroft steered Greg into the admittedly ridiculous master bath, the one with the giant tub, the gilt fixtures, and enough room to include actual furniture. Greg stopped still and simply looked around. "Your relatives... what were they thinking?" 

"Let's take advantage of their extremity, shall we? Sit down." 

Greg settled onto a striped loveseat, as Mycroft took off his shoes and socks for him. "Is... that a fridge?" The appliance was tucked under a large sweep of marble holding two sinks. 

"Yes, very observant of you, detective." Mycroft had moved onto Greg's coat and jacket, gently pulling off each item and draping them over the other end of the settee. Greg was allowing his limbs to be manipulated, trying to help but a moment behind each action. 

"Why do you need a fridge in the bathroom?" 

"So our champagne will be properly chilled." 

"Oh, Mr. Holmes, I am not posh enough for you." Greg was down to his shirtsleeves and trousers when Mycroft started the oversized claw-foot tub filling. He turned each tap, getting the blended temperature of the water just right. As he sprinkled in bath salts, the scent of the ocean began to drift through the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going to pamper you, Greg. You've taken such good care of me. Let me take care of you."

Greg had listed over, leaning on the padded arm, but he was still awake enough to smile at the idea. Then his curiosity, once awoken, took over. "That bathtub is too long even for your legs! How do you soak without going under?"

"Clearly, one needs a safety buddy. Isn't it convenient we're both here?" Mycroft began taking off his jacket, reaching behind the door for a suit hanger. The shoes, socks, waistcoat, and trousers soon followed, as Greg watched him, blinking slowly. Mycroft couldn't resist winking at him, which got him a surprised look in return, before Greg again settled into a dopey smile. 

As Mycroft was taking off his cufflinks and tie pin, to be deposited in a silver dish on the counter, Greg spoke again, "This is nice. Relaxing." He yawned. "Oops. Forgive me." 

Mycroft deftly unknotted his own tie, long fingers working, "It's all right. We have no expectations here." 

"You sure?" Greg narrowed his eyes, assessing Mycroft. "Our first Valentine's?" 

"And mine." After stopping the taps, Mycroft walked into Greg's space, standing between his spread legs wearing nothing but his boxers and tailored shirt. "But I intend for it to be only the first of many. I gift you whatever you need, Greg, now and in the future." 

Greg grabbed him around the waist and hugged tight, burying his face in Mycroft's tummy. "You're a closet romantic, and you're the best thing, and I don't deserve you." He let go and began unbuttoning the shirt, revealing the smattering of auburn hair across Mycroft's chest. "I want to see you before I collapse." 

Mycroft spread his hands. "Feel free." Once the shirt was undone and dropped, Greg gestured at Mycroft to step back and turn around. Mycroft couldn't keep from rolling his eyes and pursing his lips, but his did as instructed. Once back facing Greg, he saw the other man trying to unbutton his own shirt. Mycroft helped him to his feet, then gently batted his hands away and took over for him, removing the shirt, and then undoing his trousers, allowing them to drop to the floor. 

Once they were both in their boxers, Greg pulled Mycroft back into his arms and kissed him. "Soak now?" 

"Undress and get in, please. There's more." 

"More?" Greg looked like a kid at Christmas, with wide eyes. "Yes, sir." He dropped his boxers and stepped carefully into the bathtub. "Mmmmm..." He propped himself on the side, arms crossed, elbows out, and chin on his hands, watching Mycroft move around the room. 

Mycroft opened the fridge, withdrawing the promised champagne, followed by a plate of chocolate-dipped fruit pieces, and another of crumbly cheddar cubes. The cabinet next to it revealed glasses, savory biscuits, and linen napkins. He set it all out, waved a hand towards it, and asked Greg, "Too much?"

Greg smiled widely. "Never. I love your thoroughness." Then he swallowed and looked uncertain. "Too soon for the L word?" 

"Greg, you must never hide yourself from me. I'll know, although I may not know why, and I'll worry. Promise me to be yourself." 

"Will you stop with the hosting and get yourself over here? I need to touch you after that." 

Mycroft stood up straighter, hooking his thumbs under his waistband, and dropped his boxers before sweeping up a napkin, draping it over his arm, and sauntering over to the tub. "Would sir like his back rub now?" 

Greg flopped back in the tub, splashing and laughing. "Why does no one else know how funny you are?" 

Mycroft gently pushed Greg's shoulder forward, so he could step in behind him. He settled down, stretching out his legs to either side of Greg before pulling him back against his chest, wrapping himself around the solidly comfortable man. "There's no one else who cares to know, my dear." 

"Bloody crime, that is." Greg turned in the tub, propping himself against Mycroft and leaning up to kiss him. Mycroft's arms tightened as he returned the embrace. 

Now that they were finally naked and touching, shoulders to knees, the kiss became more passionate, nipping and licking and breaking to breathe and diving right back in. As they began moving against each other, the water was moving with them, adding another layer of sensation to their skin. 

After long, timeless minutes, Mycroft threw his head back, panting. Greg was mouthing and nibbling at his long neck, their activities together apparently having given him a second wind, and the sensations were overwhelming. "Stop, stop," he gasped out. "You're ahead of schedule." 

Greg laughed before again applying lips and teeth to Mycroft's creamy skin. "You said, sweetheart, whatever I wanted. Well, needed, but that's the same thing right now. I want to make you come, and for you to make me come, and then for us to go to sleep, and then to drink and eat all these nibbles you had made in bed tomorrow morning." Greg looked into Mycroft's eyes. "That work for you?" 

Mycroft felt himself melt into Greg's arms. Bugger the plan. Greg had a habit of disrupting them, anyway, usually for the better. "Whatever you want, need, choose, Greg. While I can still speak, happy Valentine's Day." 

Greg ran his hands, tucked under Mycroft, up and down his back, finally settling on his arse and pulling him in close. "Happy Valentine's, valentine." They began kissing again, feeling their cocks stiffen as they rubbed against each other. Greg brought a hand around to touch them both, together. He slid his fist up and down, twisting, gently, as the water sloshed around them. 

Greg nipped at Mycroft's neck and behind his ear, stopping long enough to whisper to him, "Come for me, love. I want to see you." Greg tightened his hand as Mycroft shuddered and did so. Greg smiled down at him as Mycroft slumped against the back of the tub. "I see what you mean about a safety buddy. I'll keep you above the water." 

Mycroft opened his eyes, a small smile playing around his lips. "Why don't you lie back, and I'll show you how long I can hold my breath?" 

The fatigue he'd been fighting swept over Greg again. "Yeah, sounds good. Although maybe we should go ahead and dry off. I don't want to fall asleep on you." He began rising, preparing to step out of the tub. 

Mycroft joined him, snagging a towel from the rack and wrapping it around Greg. He dried him off, gently working around his still-erect cock. "You may be tired, but I don't think all of you got the message." He draped the towel around Greg's shoulders. "Hold on to me." Mycroft put Greg's hands on his shoulders before crouching down and kissing the tip of Greg's cock. 

He wanted Greg to feel good, but he knew it was a race against Greg's rapidly failing energy, so he went for speed, not finesse. He reminded himself that the first time wouldn't be their only, and they would have plenty of moments in the future for it to be improved upon. His tongue circled him, as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, bobbing his head up and down. Greg's fingers tightened, and he swayed as he pulsed and came. 

Mycroft moved quickly but gently to stand up and embrace Greg, who had a blissful smile on his face but could barely keep his eyes open. Mycroft gave him another pass with the towel before putting Greg's arm around his waist and guiding him into the bedroom. The two stood, leaning on each other, as Mycroft quickly swept the bedding down. Once Greg lay down, he drew the sheets up over him. He kissed his forehead and whispered good night to him. A muttered "love you" came in response. Mycroft suspected Greg wouldn't remember the details in the morning, and they'd get another chance at this first time. 

He went back into the bathroom, finished drying himself off, donned pajamas, drained the tub, put things away, and tided up. Only the basics, as he wanted to be back with Greg quickly. By the time he returned, Greg was quietly snoring. Mycroft smiled to himself. As he tucked himself in, cuddling up next to Greg and putting his arm around his waist, he thought to himself, as he drifted off, "Not a bad first Valentine's Day."


End file.
